


Don't Look Back

by towblerone



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3102707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towblerone/pseuds/towblerone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saying goodbye to a friend who’s being brought to his death is the hardest thing one can possibly do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Look Back

Cold, damp stone and rusty iron doors surrounded your senses as you wake. In the air was the smell of shit, vomit, and overall death.

You lay on the frigid stone floor, the only thing separating your skin from the surface being your paper thin dress. Every muscle in your body was rigid and stiff from sleeping in these god awful conditions.

Though you supposed this is what you should expect. Piracy doesn’t get you comfortable living spaces; not when you’ve been arrested.

Groaning in pain, you sit up, despite every muscle in your body shrieking in protest. You prop yourself on the wall. It’s not comfortable, not in the least. But it’s probably the most comfortable thing you can get in this cell.

When you first had been arrested, you weren’t concerned. You had a few pins in your hair that could be used as lockpicks, and you intended to use them. But it seemed the people running this shit hole were getting smarter, as before you were locked away in your cell, they searched your hair thoroughly and removed every pin.

So you were stuck here. And you were likely going to die.

It was something you’d come to accept with over the few months of your being here. You’d panicked, sobbed and hyperventilated when the realization hit you the first time. But as you were left to your thoughts, you came to understand that this was what you signed on for upon becoming a pirate.

So you made peace with this fact.

Each day, someone would come by with a tin tray of food. Or at least, they were supposed to. Sometimes they’d skip a day or three. Not much loss anyway. The crap could barely be called food in the first place. Always filled with maggots and dusted with a healthy coat of mold.

You’d rather they just hanged you and got it over with.

But these wretched men had always been fond of drawing out these affairs. And you were no exception.

—

A few months later, whispers from the other prisoners would reach your ears.

"Did you hear?" they would hiss to each other. "Charles Vane’s been arrested."

Every single ounce of breath in your body left you.

No…not him. Please, God, not him.

You frantically got the attention of the gossipers, and when asked to confirm, they nodded.

"Saw ‘im meself," one man said. "Didn’t look at all right. Then again, he’s probably never been right in his life."

You took several shuddering breaths. Covering your face, you let out a cry.

The man you love has been arrested, and there was no way out of this prison.

He was going to die.

—

"Let’s go, Vane," you heard from down the hall. "It’s time."

Time for what? you thought. What did he…

Oh. Oh no. No, no no no.

The guards dragged the man to his feet and began down the hallway, heading in your general direction. And for the first time in a year, you looked at the man you had fallen in love with.

Your fellow prisoner was right. Charles did not look well.

Physically, he was fine. But his eyes, his haunting smile…his mind was lost.

They began to escort him away. To be hanged.

No…

"Wait!" you cried. "Wait please!"

The guards paid no attention. Perhaps they were not even aware you were talking to them.

"Please, please…" you sobbed wildly, banging on the door to your cell. This got the guards’ attention. They backpedaled, and just as Charles’ eyes caught your own and you saw a brief surprised look on his face, the guard rapped his fist on the iron bars angrily.

"Shut yer trap," he snarled. You paid no attention to his aggression, only begged more.

"Please, sir, please…" you pleaded, "Just…"

"Spit it out," he growled. Normally the guards did not listen this long. Or at all.

"Just…let me say goodbye to him."

The guard eyed you skeptically. He probably assumed it was some attempt on your part to escape. But at the moment, it was both the first thing on your mind…and the farthest.

"I promise I won’t try to run," you whimper, "I won’t try anything. I just want to say goodbye to him."

The guard was hesitant still, but a few prisoners had sympathetic faces, and protested with you.

"Have some compassion, man," one prisoner said with pity in his voice. "Let the lass say goodbye to the man."

The other guard just sighed.

"For God’s sake, man," he said, "just let her. They won’t shut up unless we do."

The guard let himself into your cell and chained your wrists to the floor, but the chains were long and easy to move in. After he was certain you were secure, he opened the door and moved aside, taking Charles’ arm to make sure he wouldn’t escape.

You darted forward, chains rattling noisily as you enveloped Charles in a crushingly tight embrace. He laughed, but not a friendly, cheerful laugh. It was the laugh of a madman who’d lost his mind to God knows what.

You sniffled, tears escaping your eyes and soaking his dirty shirt.

"Charles?" you say, your voice dropping a bit as you fought to contain your crying. "Charles, can you hear me?"

He gave no indication of hearing you, only giggled again. But this was important.

"I…I don’t know if you can hear me…but there’s something I’ve always wanted to say to you," you say, arms still circling him.

He looks down at you, and for a moment, you think he may be listening.

"I just wanted to say that-" you swallowed. Though you knew this was the last you would ever see of him, it was still difficult. "-that I love you. I’ve always loved you, Charles."

You whimper, vision of him blurred by tears.

"And I want you to know that even though I know you do not feel the same way, and even in the current circumstances…" you say, blinking. "That will never, ever change."

He stares at you, and in that split moment after your confession, the eyes you gaze into are no longer wild and twitching. They are steady and trained on you.

The eyes you remember falling in love with.

His mouth turns upward in a sad smile. He chuckles and shakes his head, his sanity returned to him for a brief instance.

"If you thought I don’t feel the same way, you’re a fucking idiot," he said.

A sobbing laugh wracks your body. He had returned to his normal self, even if just for now, and you liked to think he did it just for you.

"Truly?" you whisper, holding his face in your hands.

"Yes, idiot," he said, repeating his insult. "I love you too."

Dammit. God fucking dammit.

Without wasting your time on words, you stand on your tip toes, even though it hurts like hell. He bends slightly, catching on to your intentions.

You softly place your lips on his and the two of you share a gentle, loving kiss. The guards moved to stop you, but the same prisoner from before shouted at them.

"Let the girl have this one thing," he to the guard said as if scolding a younger sibling.

You and Charles ignored the exchange, instead focusing on nothing but each other. The cold, dank prison, the guards, the prisoners all faded away.

There was only you and him and this kiss that you’d waited too fucking long for.

You wished the guards would let go of him arms, just for this one moment. So you could feel his hands on you. It was all you wanted, but more than you would be getting.

You parted your lips from Charles, but it only lasted seconds as you pecked at his mouth again and again, wishing you could stay like this with him forever. Wishing that you could turn back time to when he wasn’t on his way to his death, to when you were both free.

"I love you," you say again, voice trembling. "I love you so much.”

Even the guards appeared to be touched deeply by the scene in front of them. They looked at you with sad expressions, and one moved from Charles to bring you back to your cell.

You were too heartbroken to even put up a fight. The man practically had to carry you back, trying his best to ignore your wailing. He removed the chains and shut the door, glancing at you as if in apology, and both men began to haul Charles away once more.

"Charles…" you yelled in grief.

He laughed in response. His mind gone once again.

A few minutes passed after Charles had left your sight. You could hear the crowd’s noisy cheering. You curled up, ignoring the prisoners who offered words of comfort.

You could only hear the man’s awful voice as he sentenced your beloved Charles to his death.

The crowd’s cheering rose to a roar, and it was then you knew that Charles was dead.

How the people loved a good hanging.

—

You had no idea how long it had been since Charles’ execution. Days, weeks, months. Didn’t matter.

The guards brought your food once a day, but it lay there untouched. They brought water, but it sat in its dish.

You wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t drink. Couldn’t.

You just couldn’t bring yourself to put the stuff to your lips.

The prisoners tried to comfort you again, and encouraged you to eat, but you paid them no attention.

The only thing that passed your mind was the look of absolute love that you caught a glimpse of in Charles’ eyes just before the guards had dragged him away to be killed.

It was all you wanted to remember. For the rest of your life.

—

The prisoners had long stopped caring about you. Good. You didn’t need their pity.

You lay on the cold stone, shivering weakly. You’d become nothing but skin and bones. Face pale and gaunt, knuckles perpetually white, lips chapped and flaking.

Every ounce of fight that you’d once had had left your body.

Every breath crackled in your underused lungs, barely stirring at the hair that lay just in front of your lips.

So this was it.

You’d hoped for a nicer death. Perhaps dying in battle. Even old age sounded nice.

Not dying in a prison.

Without warning, a light began to shine brightly in front of you. It was blinding at first, but it softened to a pale golden shimmer as time passed. A figure passed in front of it, and though it was a struggle, you focused your sight to see the most wonderful thing you’d ever seen.

There stood Charles, looking alive and well. He wore his signature coat; the brown one with the red lining that he was never seen without. His eyes gleamed, welcoming.

"Charles," you croaked, voice barely louder than a gentle spring breeze. You smiled, and though you could feel your lips splitting and cracking, you couldn’t care less.

"I’m here," he said in the most soothing voice. He approached you and knelt by your side, warm hand caressing your face.

"But I thought you were…" you trailed off, not wanting such ugly words to pass your lips.

Charles nodded, but was smiling still. He stood slowly, and as he got to his feet, he held out his hand to you.

"It’s time," he said.

It had taken far too long. It was time, and you were ready. So, so ready.

"Charles," you say again. He said nothing in return, but leaned down, scooped you into his strong arms, and planted a chaste kiss on your cheek.

"I’m here, love," he said, voice echoing through your mind.

"Please…" you wheeze, "please don’t leave me again…"

He held you close and began to carry you towards the golden light. Charles opened his mouth and proceeded to say the four most beautiful words you’d ever heard spoken before.

"I’m not going anywhere."

And with that, your final breath exited your lungs, and you left your used, broken body on the cold floor of the Jamaican prison.

Charles carried you into the light, and stared lovingly into your eyes as he did so. You stared right back, nothing on your mind but him.

You did not look back.


End file.
